


The Central City Job

by Hedgi



Category: Leverage, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: AU? Au., Gen, Miscommunication, and then mid season two, because Team Flash is technically doing things that the Team Leverage frowns upon, crossover fic, set before the Flash starts, timeline is screwy sorry, written for the hell of it, you probably should know the leverage characters and the flash storyline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7241329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedgi/pseuds/Hedgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Leverage is hired by a former Employee of STAR Labs to right a wrong; unfortunately things don't go to plan (yet somehow, everything works out the way it should.)</p><p>two years later,the team's visiting their favorite Ex-Car Thief and get caught up in Metahuman shenanigans and villainous plots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nathan Ford paced the small room again, looking out at the slick streets and the building across the way, people evacuating as quickly as they could manage. “Ok, Uh, Hardison, can you shut it down?” he asked thin air.

“Can I shut it—“ Hardison’s voice came over the coms, cracking with panic. “Can I shut it do—Nate, that is a Particle accelerator. A Par-ti- _cal_ Ac-cel-e-ra-tor. Not a fourth grader’s potato clock, I can’t just—“

“Can you try?” a woman’s nebulously-european accent came over the line. “Hardison, there must be something you can do, or a lot of people are—“

“Gonna get hurt yeah, I know, um—I need to get inside. If I can see the computer system, I can try, I can’t promise miracles or nothing, but…”

“It’s our only shot. Soph, get him inside.” Nate told the woman, his voice far too calm. “Parker, where are you on that secret room?”

“It’s still secret,” chirped Parker.  “Nate, I found a gorilla. Not too friendly.”

“That’s great, Parker,” a fifth voice chimed in, dripping sarcasm like the rain that soaked everything outside. “Where are you? You’ve only got a minute before things all go to hell in there.”

“Eliot’s right,” Nate said. “Parker, forget the con, help Sophie with Hardison, then get out and take shelter.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it. There’s a sweet sub-basement below the pipeline.”

Nate sighed. From his vantage point, he could seem the lightning dancing in the storm clouds, the way that STAR Lab’s main building was taking hits—it was a wonder they hadn’t lost power. If Hardison, or their own engineers didn’t manage to do something….This was worse than the First David Job, worse even than the Maltese Falcon Job. Things had gone down the tube, and for the first time in years, Nate didn’t have a backup plan that could fix everything, not for something of this magnitude. It would be worse than the Rams Horn, if this thing malfunctioned, the way protesters feared. The way their client had feared.

He only hoped he hadn’t gotten his whole team killed.

~~ * * ~~

Their client, bespeckled and mousy haired but as arrogant as the day was long—for good reason-- was a former employee, unjustly fired right before a major project he’s partnered on was to go live.  On top of that, and the loss of assets in the company, he’d been threatened with being blackballed from the broader science community by CEO Harrison Wells if he went to the press or anyone at all with information on a possible flaw in the Particle Accelerator’s design. The actual danger was a minimal chance, and Parker had managed to acquire a few memos that suggested the issue had been fixed, though that hadn’t helped the kid much. Even without being explicitly blackballed, work was hard to find after being fired from STAR Labs, on top of personal matters.

It had been a unanimous choice to take the job to discredit Wells or at least drag his name through the mud a bit, and get Rathaway a decent severance package. It shouldn’t have been terribly difficult—Wells had, according to Hardison, a habit of poaching employees and his money mostly seemed to come from stocks-trading and investments that almost without fail turned a massive profit. There had to be something fishy there.

Eliot had been particularly gleeful about taking Wells down a peg or seven. “I don’t like ‘im. He’s hiding stuff. And who does that to a kid? No warning no nothing, for finding a potential flaw. Kid doesn’t even have a home.” (Hardison, a year younger than Rathaway but miles better with people, had protested Eliot’s use of the word ‘kid’ as much as Rathaway had. Parker had stayed quiet, feeding sunflower seeds to Trill, the client’s pet rat.) But then the Accelerator turning on, the celebration that was supposed to keep everyone busy and occupied so that Parker could find her way into a room Hardison had found on the blueprints to find something to use against Wells, had gone Wrong.

~~ * * * ~~

“Nate,” Hardison’s voice was hard, resolute and broken both at once. “I can’t shut it down. It’s too far gone, it’s going to go. I can delay it a little I think, maybe. Get underground. All of you. Get out. Two of—two of the engineers are trying, I’m doing everything I can, but I’m not magic. We’ve got less than two minutes.”

“No,” Parker said, her voice steady, so that no one but her team would ever guess that she was cracking, too. “No, I won’t.”

“Hardison,” Sophie started, “Don’t try to be a hero—“

“Dammit, Hardison, if I gotta tell you one more time I’m not leaving you behind—“

The coms all went dead. Nate closed his eyes before turning back to the window, watching hungrily, desperately. Prayers he hadn’t used since his seminary days  flipped through his mind but he didn’t say them, his mouth frozen for a heartbeat.

“Everyone, out, now, Parker, get Hardison into that subbasement. I mean it!” Nate lost his composure at last, hoping by Grace of God or some miracle they could hear him,  just as a wave, a ring of brilliant flame erupted from the top of STAR Labs and swept across the city, through the city.  Pain lit every nerve of Nate’s body before everything went white.

~~ * * * ~~

Four days after the explosion, Nate was released from the hospital, the others having recovered from their own minimal injuries. Parker had gotten Hardison into the subbasement without being caught, and Hardison had overheard the last ditch efforts to stop the Accelerator. The two engineers had routed the explosion up instead of out—there had still been a great deal of damage, but their actions had saved thousands, potentially millions. Still, there were dozens missing, several dead, and many more injured. Including, as it happened, CEO Harrison Wells.

“According to these,” Parker held up a swiped medical folder “His spin was severed in—ouch—four places, plus his legs were broken. I mean he’s not dead but I bet he wishes he was.” She shuddered. Not being able to move without help, not being able to jump off buildings or climb things or cartwheel through a laser grid? “what do I need to sign so you pull the plug on me if that happens?”

“It’s not gonna happen,” Eliot promised, absently checking his hands. He’d thought the bone was broken, it was a very distinctive snap, when he’d been bowled over and into a wall by the energy blast, but there was no pain at all, now. That didn’t add up.

“We still have to meet with Rathaway. I don’t think he’ll have any issue with Wells or his threats after today,” Nate said, letting Sophie help him out of the wheelchair and into Hardison’s newest van, Lucille 5.0. He looked at his wife. “When did you have time to dye your hair? It’s a good look. Different, but good. I like it.”

“I didn’t,” Sophie touched her once-black hair, then shrugged. “Well, these last few days have been a bit of a blur. I have been thinking about going a bit lighter.”

~~ * * ~~

They met Rathaway in the designated spot, an office-space Hardison had rented in Englewood.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be the best. I thought you were supposed to fix things,” he snapped as soon as he saw them. “ Harrison isn’t going to pay for any of—“

“Your old boss is in a wheelchair for life,” Eliot cut him off. “There’s not a damn thing we could do to make him pay more.”

“And his name is ruined. You were right,” Sophie assured him. “He’ll be lucky if he keeps his company. The lawsuits will be—“

“There won’t be any. He’ll get out of it. He can get out of anything. I’ll have to do something myself.” Rathaway glowered at them.

“Don’t throw your life away,” Nate advised. “Now, listen. I have a lot of…acquaintances, people who owe us a great deal, and a number of them work in mechanical engineering, in tech development, a number of scientific fields.” The older man pulled a small stack of business cards from his pocket. “If any of them look interesting, give them a call, tell them we sent you, show them that fancy resume. Not even Harrison Wells’s pettiness will keep them from giving you a fair shot. Your career doesn’t have to be over.”

Hartley Rathaway scowled. “No thank you,” he said. “I can take care of myself. I wanted justice, not charity. He turned on his heel and stalked out.

“Somebody really needs to check his attitude,” Hardison clicked his tongue. “No need to be rude.”

“Yeah, well, we did what we could, I vote we get out of here,” Eliot said. “City’s all a wreck, we got no more business here. All the mess is starting to give me the creeps.”

“It’s better than Starling,” Sophie pointed out. “But yes. We still haven’t gone back to visit our friends in Tokyo.”

“That’s cuz they aren’t our friends,” Eliot said.

“Uh, has anyone seen Parker?” Hardison asked.

“I’m right here,” Parker’s disembodied voice floated from somewhere vaguely up and to the left of the group.”

“Parker?” Eliot squinted. “You know you can’t keep vanishing into the air ducts.”

“I’m not in the ducts, even though duh, of course I can,” Parker’s Cheshire voice fairly smirked. Suddenly she materialized, hopping down from the top of a filing cabinet. “Cool new trick. Not sure how I did it, but isn’t it great?”

Nate rubbed his forehead. Eliot swore under his breath. Sophie and Hardison just gaped.

~~ * * ~~

Three weeks later, doing a job dealing with a businessman refusing to pay for "shoddy" work on his hotels and threatening physical violence when they tried to sue, Sophie discovered that it wasn’t just her hair color that altered when she thought hard about it, and Hardison had a minor panic attack when he started controlling his laptop and the security cameras with his own thoughts. Eliot took his own mutation rather well. It was nice to have all his teeth back, and the way his bones refused to stay broken was about the best thing a hitter could ask for.

Maybe Central City hadn’t been a total waste of time after all.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 years later--October 2015--Central city.  
> When visiting Central City to see some old friends, Team Leverage might just make some new ones.  
> or maybe not.

“I’m just saying, that was rather nice,” Sophie said to Nate over a cup of coffee. Sitting at a table in the Jitters balcony they had a clear view of the exit, a path to the roof, and a fantastic plate of scones. “I’ve never stolen a barony _back_ for anyone.”

Nate shrugged, in his way of correcting. “Technically he was a still a baron, we just got the Keep back.”

“Castle, Nate. We stole back a castle.” Hardison’s voice came over the always in place earbud, and the mastermind could feel the grin.  
“Well, yes, that we did.” Nate swiped a piece of biscotti from Sophie’s plate, and she swatted at his hand, but smiled.

“So what’s next?” she asked. It was a conversation they’d all had several times. LA, Portland and Boston were out, they had to stay clear of the Mediterranean for a while, and Nate had adamantly refused set up shop in the San Francisco area–which proved to be smart, seeing as how he’d been recognized almost instantly when they’d taken a job at UC Berkeley to oust a professor who’d crossed the line with female students. (Hardison had also latched onto the fact that he’d been one of the group that had stripped Pluto of its status, stating that that had ‘made it personal.’) So they’d floated for a time, never putting down roots, just offering help in this city or another before moving on again. It was safer, really, though they missed the stability of having an office.

 And really, in the two years (ish) since they’d last been in Central city, no one had discovered their powers, and it wasn’t really as though having abilities–some blog Hardison kept an eye on called them “metahumans”–was any more dangerous than simply them being who they already were. They had lots of people who owed them favors, if worse were to come to worse, but Nate doubted it would come to that, even if he had been unaffected. They’d conned the government/ military/ shady science companies bent on killing millions of people for profit  before, and that was before Hardison could read text messages and send emails with his brain, or Sophie could literally change her appearance in a matter of seconds. And, outside of this general area, Central City, Keystone, a few reports in Star city, no one seemed to be taking “metahumans” seriously, which was all the better.

Finishing up in Scotland–getting the Baron of Kilravock back the small castle his aunt had been tricked into signing away–the team had found themselves without a job to get to, which meant that, in the grand tradition of Hardison and Eliot getting Parker to experience normality once in awhile, it was time for a roadtrip. Lucille 5.0 was more than up for the task, and while they looked for bad guys with money, they visited a few old friends. Tara met them for drinks, Jack Hurley congratulated Nate and Sophie, Kaye Lynn Gold invited them to a show, and Eliot’s fanclub sprang up all over again.

Now they were in Central City, passing through in part to check on the situation–apparently Harrison Wells had been shadier than even their old client had known, and had murdered a woman a decade and change prior. He was dead now, at least. Eliot still wanted to punch him in the face, dead or not. Hardison had quietly managed to hack some records to get the husband who’d been framed some money, before learning that a full third of Well’s assets were going to the vic’s son. Another reason for stopping was Shorty–Josie, the teenaged car thief they’d helped out a few years back. Just in case Lefty, his crew, or Duke Penzer turned on her for turning on them, they’d set her up with a false ID and instructions to use her brains for things that wouldn’t get her arrested. Half a decade later, “Linda” was a top notch sports journalist, the only one who’d managed to get an interview with Jack “the Bear,” thanks to her connections. It had been a while since they’d seen her, and what with all the increasingly bizarre criminal activity, (“Dude, they’re saying there is a man shark. A man shark!” Hardison had yelped while looking at the latest rumors blog. Eliot had snaked back that he’d just faked the Loch Ness monster) they thought it wise. Plus, Parker missed her.

  “Alright so I’m looking into what could be our next case. Star City, there’s this dude, Damien Darhk, and maaan is he up to some Hinky stuff, like, really. Really not good. Also? I found photos that place him in Norway at the sale of a nuke. Dudn’t buy it, but–”

“Your point?” Eliot asked from wherever he was–they’d split off for the afternoon.  
“It was in the 70s. Dude looks like he hasn’t aged a day. There’s something going on.”  
“Maybe not something we want our noses in, Hardison,” Nate said.  
“Damien?” Parker asked, her voice soft and echoing strangely. “What is with Damiens? Every Damien we’ve met is evil.”

“We’ve only met two, your sample size–” Sophie began, but Nate held up a hand, stopping her

He frowned. “Parker?” he asked into the com as Sophie, a little annoyed,  watched the customers below with some interest.

 “Yeah?” a shrill voice chirped back, but softly.

  “Where are you, exactly?”  
         

 There was a beat of silence. “I’m at the bank. What? They’ve got a Glen-Reeder 52-1 here, I’m just sightseeing!”

“Just be careful,” Hardison cautioned. “I mean, I’ve been doing some digging and, you know, that Flash guy? The hero? He comes after bank robbers, hard. According to the blogs, a couple of them had powers, and they went missing for months after a run in with this guy. Might be a hero but that’s kinda hinky.”

“Hardison, I’m not going to get caught, c’mon. As i–hey!” that last was not directed at the team, but at someone else. “ You’re not supposed to be back here, you’re gonna ruin my tourist experience, and bring the cops, that–that is _not how you open a Glen–hey!_ ”

Downstairs, there was a spark, a blur, a flash as someone left–the Flash, Nate figured, just what they needed. “Eliot, bank, now.”

“‘M on it,” Eliot growled.  
 “Ok, I’m hacking into the systems at the bank, cuz Eliot that dude runs at like a millio–”

“WHO ARE YOU, STOP RUINING MY VACATION,” Parker’s voice echoed and everything went staticy.

“Someone else’s coms are screwing up our frequency, hang on, Parker, get out, now!” Hardison shouted. Nate and Sophie abandoned their food, leaving a tip for the barista and making for the roof.

 A whooshing noise came over the coms, but it was still too faint to hear anything on Parker’s end before it went dead. As Nate and Sophie crashed into Hardison outside the bank, Eliot joined them, leaving the building swarming with cops.

 “We’re too late. He got her. There was another meta, some kinda light show chick. That one got away, and this Flash took Parker.”

           Eliot looked mad enough to chew rocks into gravel, clenching his fists. Hardison swore–or at least, everyone assumed he had, muttering in what sounded like klingon. Sophie and Nate exchanged a look.

 “What’s the plan,then?” Sophie asked.  
  “Ah, Hardison–get Parker’s earbud working again. Also, look at patterns. Trace the movements, sightings of the Flash, we can get an approximate location.”

“Oh, I am on it. Time to unmask us a superhero. Hmph. Can’t just go grabbin’ anybody up outta bank vaults, due process, man.” Hardison darted through traffic to Lucille 4.0, already getting his computer ready. Maybe he could hack into the earbud directly with his brain? He’d never done that before, but for Parker, he was sure he could. Couldn’t be worse than a Steranko, anyway, and he’d fooled one of those twice.

“Eliot, anything you can learn about, ah, Light Show. Flash will be after her, too, we find her, we have something we can trade. Not that I’m saying we will, just, to be safe. Plan D.”

“She was wearing a mask, no one got a look at her face, but yeah. Had a half visor, according to the stills the cops were looking at.”

As he went back into the building, Nate turned to Sophie, who was teasing her hair from the straight black into a bit of a lighter brown and adding some curl. “The blogger Hardison’s keeping an eye on, that writes about the–ugh, what a name– “metas”? She works with Josie, well, Linda, now. Maybe she can give us more information.”

Nate nodded. “Excellent thinking.”

* * *

 

Parker leaned against the blue cushioned wall, poking at it. She was bored, bored, bored, and the wallet she’d stolen from the Flash when he’d grabbed her hadn’t even had anything interesting in it. Some probably legit police ID, two dollars, a faded pokemon card (she stuffed that into her shirt, Hardison would like it,) and a half full punch card for CC Jitters. Boring, boring, boring. She flexed her hands, wondering if–yep, the faded right in front of her. She glanced up at the camera, already plotting her grand escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, Malese Jow played the itty bitty Car Thief in the Boost Job and Team Leverage has totally gotten former marks/clients new identities and I just. couldn't not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finally wrote more yay.

Sophie patted her hair, tugged at her collar, then pushed her way through the doors of Central City Picture News, Nate a step behind her. She smiled at a desk worker who looked to be a receptionist, scanning the room for a familiar face.

“Excuse me, are you here for an interview, or--?” The woman smiled, firmly. Sophie new the look and nodded.

“Yes, actually,” she said, flawlessly slipping into an American accent. “Mrs. Bachman, I’m here to speak to a reporter, Linda Park?”

“About what?” The secretary/receptionist, whose name tag identified her as “Nellie” locked eyes with someone over Sophie’s shoulder. Security, if she had to guess.

“I’m a consultant for one of her stories, the damage at the local football stadium?” Sophie kept the wince at calling it ‘football’ out of her tone, and smiled again. “I understand you newspapers had tight deadlines, but of course I can always go, I’m sure the article will—“

“No, sorry,” Nellie sighed. “We just have to check. There’ve been issues in the past, unauthorized—I’ll tell her you’re here.”

“That’s not necessary—“ Sophie started, but she didn’t need to worry. A dark haired woman in the back had noticed, and was coming toward them, a confused smile, but a smile nevertheless, on her face.

“Hi,” she said, and Sophie cut her off.

“We spoke on the phone, Lili Baxhman and my associate, Harold. “ Sophie indicated.

“Right,” the reporter nodded, understanding. “Well, my desk is just over here, if you’ll follow me.”

Once at her desk, Nate picked up a glossy photograph. “Josie, we need your help.”

“Linda, now.” She said firmly. “No one here knows, and I’d like to keep it that way, even in Penzer and Lefty are still locked up. I’m guessing this isn’t a social call, then?”

“Parker’s in trouble.” Sophie said flatly. She knew that Parker was the only reason Josie—Linda—was here now. Without Parker, she’d have been arrested for certain, and without that intervention, the whole team might have been in serious danger.

“Parker?” Linda asked. “What happened? What can I do? Anything.”

“Parker’s a…well, I’m not sure who coined the phrase, but she’s a Metahuman. We were here, the night of the explosion.  I’m assuming you heard about the bank?”

“Yeah,” Linda said, “There was an attempted Robbery, the Flash caught—Parker? It was Parker?”

“No, and we won’t tell her you thought she was sloppy enough to get caught.” Nate gave a wry smile. “There was another meta, one who escaped, but Parker was caught. You have a coworker, a Ms. West, runs a blog? We think she may know where we can find the Flash.”

Linda’s shoulders sank. “I can’t help you with that. Iris is very protective of him. He’s saved her life a couple times. She won’t tell anyone, and her dad’s a cop, so she’s not exactly someone it’s safe to question about that kind of thing. But I can ask her to pass on the message that Parker’s good people…” she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I—“

Sophie gave a little huff of disappointment, the sighed. “It’s not your fault, Jo—Linda. I can understand the protectiveness, secrets, but the Flash’s, well, enemies, they don’t tend to reappear…”

“There’s a wing for them at the prison, now,” Linda said. “But some of them…don’t end up there. That’s all I know, really. Iris…” she took a deep breath. “Iris should be back from lunch any minute. We can talk to her.  I owe you guys my life here. Everything.”

“Thank you,” Nate said.

~~ break ~~

“Eliot,” Hardison looked through another viral video of the Flash, marked it on a map, and nodded to himself. “Eliot, I’ve got something?”

“Where?” Eliot had not stopped pacing except to pick up his baseball bat, then exchange it for a baton, which he was swinging idly.

“Well, I couldn’t get the com back up, I can’t do distances with my…thing…and there’s a signal jammer or something. But I checked all the viral videos, well, I wrote an algorithm to, in the last year of the flash, see if there’s a central location he goes to after a sighting. Some of them lead to this area, but it’s all residential, families, things like that. Hard to explain a signal jammer and a secret prison in the garden shed.”

“Your point? Hardison I looked through that blog. Half— _half_ —of the metahumans that show up there, they don’t show up again. Ever. “ Eliot slammed the baton into his own hand. The mark faded almost instantly. “I don’t like this.”

“Yeah, well, Parker’s tough, and we’ll get her back. Now, look. The other sightings, they all lead back to here.” Hardison indicated a map with something circled in red. “Or to this general area. Tell me that’s not a coincidence.”

Eliot glared at the monitor, hard. “STAR Labs. Shoulda known.”

“Yeah, well, let’s go. Even if it’s a false lead…” Hardison licked his lips nervously, clicking off the computer with a blink. “It’s something.”

It was an easy matter, getting the gate and the doors open. Security cameras were harder, he couldn’t do a loop with his mind, and shutting them off was iffy for more than a few seconds.  Dressed in an immaculate suit, Hardison slipped through the extremely ominous hallways of Star Labs, Eliot just in front of him.

As they rounded a corner, Eliot heard the distinctive snick of a police issue service pistol releasing from its holster.

“Don’t move,” a low voice threatened, a cop with his gun drawn and aimed. Eliot sized him up. Tall, broad shouldered. Something in his eyes, face, said he was very serious about protecting whatever else lay down that corridor.

“Special Agent Thomas from the FBI,” Hardison said firmly. “This is Special Agent Stone. WE have reason to believe that one of our own is being illegally detained here, so put down the gun.”

Eliot reached for the badge Hardison had made him. Holding it up, he spoke. “Go ahead, officer, call it in. I’m sure whatever’s going on in here would be of great interest to the Bureau as well as your own office, cuz I’m betting this isn’t exactly sanctioned, is it?” his eyes flickered over the cop’s shoulder, he could smell chemicals. Antiseptics, disinfectant, rubber—some kind of medical setting, only from the blueprints that they’d seen two years prior, there was no medbay on the ground floor of the Lab, certainly not near enough to the entrance to be smelled.

The cop frowned, and did not lower his gun, or introduce himself. Eliot sighed.

~~ * * ~~

“Linda?” Iris frowned at the sight of Linda and two strangers standing at her desk. “What’s up? Can I help you and your… friends?”

“Iris, I know we’re not exactly best friends,” Linda started, “but I need you to trust me. And them. It’s important.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Iris asked, instantly on guard.

“I’m not,” Linda said, “But my friend is.”

“Ms. West?” the man asked. “This is Lilie Bachman, I’m Harold Barkley. We’re here about a colleague of ours, and an associate of yours.”

Iris frowned. “An associate?” she asked, hand on hip. “You mean the Flash, don’t you? Well, I can’t help you.”

“You’re lying,” the man said.  Iris was pretty sure he had been lying about being named Harold

“Linda, what did you tell them?” she hissed. “Look, I don’t want to talk to you.”

Linda took a deep breath. “I think the Flash kidnapped my friend. We need to know anything about where he might keep any metas that don’t get turned over to the police.”

Iris’s eyes widened. “No, he wouldn’t kidnap anyone.”

“If the Flash is really a hero, we have no problem with him. We just want our friend back,” the woman said. “Iris—may I call you Iris?—we’re not asking you to betray him. Just where our friend might be.”

Iris chewed a lip, then set her stance. “You need to leave, right now, or I’ll call the police. Linda, did they threaten you? Or has this all been some kind of—“

“No! Nothing like that,” Linda looked near tears, trying to keep her voice down. Still, others looked over. “Iris, can’t you just—contact him, ask him to let Parker go? Somehow? You’ve got to have some way to reach him, please, she’s not a—she’s not evil.”

Iris breathed in through her nose. “Linda—“

“Iris, please.”

The man pressed a finger to his ear, a comm, Iris guessed, like the kind Cisco had made.

“STAR Labs,” he said, not looking away from Iris. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“How did you—“

“It only makes sense. That’s where the meta powers came from, after all. Are we right? Ms. West, we don’t want to hurt your friend. What we want is our friend back. You can hardly fault us for that, now can you?” he sighed. “You can even tell him we’re coming, if you like.”

“Linda,” Iris said, softly. “Do you really trust these people?”

“With my life. If they say they all they want is Parker back, they mean it. They’re good people. They helped me, they helped a lot of people. They even got Barry’s dad some money—“

“You know Henry?” Iris spun on her heel.

“Of him,” the woman said, smiling. “We investigated the man who framed him for murder a few years ago. Not for that, of course, but—we felt bad for having missed it.”

Iris took out her phone. “I’m not letting you go without me. But believe me, if this is any kind of trap, you’ll regret it.”

~~ * ~~

“Joe!” a scrawny young man with dark hair and freckles came up behind the cop, just a little too fast for Eliot’s liking. “Iris called, she said people are—oh.”

“Mr. Allen?” Hardison recognized him from the files on Dr. Wells, the news story about his mother’s murder and father’s framing, and that he was the co-owner of Star Labs. “FBI. We’re here about someone we believe your buddy the Flash may be detaining here. I’d call off the security if I were you.”

Barry tensed. “Joe, Iris called. Something about coming here, with…people. About… um…”

“About Special Agent Hagen?” Eliot asked sharply.

“Um…wait, don’t you need a warrant?”

Hardison reached into his pocket, and produced a sheet of paper. “Or you could release Agent Hagen. It’ll go a lot better for you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Barry lied.

“Sure you don’t.” Eliot snapped. “Either way, that’s accessory charges.”

“There’s been a misunderstanding,” he tried again. “If the Flash…were… to bring anyone here, it would be metahuman criminals. We’re the only ones with the equipment to check for medical conditions before metahumans are sent to IH. It’s sanctioned by the CCPD, and by the State.”

Hardison frowned. How could he have missed something as major as that? Had he, or was Allen lying? Sending data was a lot harder than seeing it, so he reached for his phone. Eliot interrupted.

“Then let us see the metahuman you picked up at the bank today. “ He smiled blandly. “Or better yet, call the FBI. They’ll be happy to confirm Agent Hagen’s identity.”

Allen flinched, almost imperceptibly. Eliot eyed him closely. Something was off. What was it? The medical scent was overpowered by something else. Almost like ozone, another very distinctive smell, one that didn’t fit with the setting. Indoors, lowlying, a sunny day.

Joe, the officer, took the warrant. Hardison winced. It was a hasty forgery, and unless something distracted him, it wouldn’t matter how good their IDs were.

Luckily, something did happen. Several somethings.

From behind came footsteps, and Sophie’s voice in the comms announcing their arrival with calming ease. From behind Allen and Joe came a tall figure.

“The meta’s gone,” said Harrison Wells, cutting himself off and gaping at the appearance of someone rounding the corner.

Eliot lunged.


End file.
